


One lives only to make blunders

by Ingi



Series: make it the shape of everything you need [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Background Poly, Bad Days, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Yuri Plisetsky, M/M, Minor Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, POV Yuri Plisetsky, Rated for Yuri Plisetsky's Language, Sad Yuri Plisetsky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-22 17:03:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13768590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ingi/pseuds/Ingi
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky is having a bad day.





	One lives only to make blunders

**Author's Note:**

> *walks into the MITSOEYN verse 6 months later with Coke and chips* Hullo, here's a mini-fic with zero plot. See y'all in August I guess?? *drops fic and runs away*

Yuri Plisetsky is having a _bad day_.

This wouldn't surprise most of the people who know him, but only because they're all _bastards_ and they believe that just because Yuri is low-key angry most of the time, it means that he doesn't have good days at all. That's just patently untrue. If he's constantly angry it's because everyone sucks balls—and not in the fun way, either—, but by now he's used to it, so it's rare that it bothers him enough to ruin his day.

But sometimes none of his spins are quite right, and the idiots of his rinkmates won't shut the hell up, and every muscle in his body hurts, and he finds himself craving dark chocolate but the second he takes the first bite he gets so violently disgusted that he throws it right into the trash, and yet another fucking third rate skater who wasted his time going to college keeps yammering about ' _the appalling lack of higher education among skaters_ ' and Yuri is just so fucking _done_ with it all.

And that's only the beginning.

So Yuri believes he's really fucking justified if he kicks the door of fucking Victor's apartment open, walks in, and lets it swing shut on its own, the noise reverberating all through the room.

Except that it's not only _Victor_ 's apartment—if it were, Yuri wouldn't be here—, it's Katsudon's as well, and at the moment he's the only one here, and he half-rises from the couch in startlement, book still in hand—index finger holding the page—, and stares at Yuri with mild disapproval.

Yuri can't take his goddamned mild disapproval right now.

"Yura-"

" _Shut up_ ," Yuri cuts him off, sharp, and he immediately blushes and his gut churns, because he _does not_ talk to Yuuri that way.

But he bites his lips and doesn't apologize, only walks quietly to Katsudon and sits beside him, a few inches of space between them, slow and tentative enough that Yuuri could tell him to get the hell out and at least he wouldn't have to embarrass himself by scrambling up. Katsudon says nothing—he watches Yuri and his eyes soften by the second—, so Yuri curls up against him, resting his head on Katsudon's left shoulder.

"Oh, Yurochka," Katsudon says, softly, and pets Yuri's hair with his free hand, which is something that definitely shouldn't feel as fucking good as it does.

"What are you reading?" Yuri mumbles against his shoulder.

Katsudon somehow understands the garbled sounds for what they are. He puts the book down, squeezing it between his side and one end of the couch, and presses his lips to the top of Yuri's head.

"Nothing."

And then, because he actually knows Yuri—and Yuri fucking _loves him_ for it—, he reaches for the remote and turns on Victor's television. There's a crappy soap opera playing, a rerun of the first season that Yuri has watched about a hundred times by now, and that's the channel Katsudon chooses.

Yuri stares as Nastya and Maksim scream at each other over her ex-husband's tomb, but he is, for once, utterly ignoring the otherwise engrossing plot.

Katsudon has wrapped an arm around his back and is absently watching the kind of show he hates—so much he would have, in fact, banned it in the apartment if it weren't for how it's one of the very few ways Yuri and Victor bond—, still in his grey sweatpants and that one really ugly stripped shirt that he loves for some reason, his probably very interesting book laying forgotten. Yuri looks down and, just as expected, Katsudon is wearing the wool socks his father knitted for him right before he moved to Russia.

They're bright orange, because apparently in Japan orange is the color of happiness, good health, love, and all that shit, but that doesn't mean that they aren't an eyesore, not that anyone would even dare to say that to Katsudon's father. Or to Katsudon.

"And he's _surprised_ ," Katsudon huffs in an undertone, scowling at the screen, "after what he's done to her. She should have left with Anton."

This is all very weird and grossly comforting. Yuri hates how much he likes it.

"Anton is a dickbag," Yuri replies, even though he knows Maksim is worse. He's self-aware enough to know that he just has a soft spot for Maksim because he's a prickly, rude asshole who doesn't deserve Nastya and knows it, but still tries to suck less for her. "She shouldn't have cheated on him with Anton, the fucking little two-timer."

Katsudon hums, but doesn't answer, which is how Yuri knows that A) he disagrees and B) he's not going to fight Yuri on this, because he doesn't give a single fuck about this show.

Actually, Yuri already knew both of those things. Katsudon might not like soap operas, but when he's forced to watch this one in particular, he prefers Anton over Maksim for the romantic lead.

Which is why, for some reason, Yuri's dumb-ass brain makes him blurt out:

"You're going to break up with me."

The look he receives is faintly confused, and _extremely_ judgmental. Yuri still doesn't take it back.

"Yura- is this about you yelling at me earlier?" Katsudon asks with a frown. "You know I-"

"It's about how I'm a fucking asshole and you're not, and you can't cheat on me with Victor because you're already _dating_ him, so you're just going to fucking dump me." Katsudon's eyes are burning holes in Yuri's very soul, if that's even a thing that exists. Yuri pushes himself away, so there's plenty of space between them if Katsudon decides to- Yuri doesn't even _know_. "I'm just saying, Katsuki," he mutters defensively, shoulders hunched.

Katsudon shakes his head, very slowly, and reaches out to cover Yuri's hands with his own. For that he has to bend forward until he's almost parallel to the ground, and his back _has_ to hurt like hell, but he doesn't seem to mind.

"Yura," he starts, softly, "I'm not going to break up with-"

"I'm mean to you," Yuri interrupts, voice wavering like a child's, and for a moment he hates himself so intensely that it blinds him, "all the time."

"You're not-"

"And I'm a fucking asshole to _everyone_ , and-"

"Yuri, _stop_ trying to talk me out of loving you," Katsudon hisses, and he squeezes Yuri's hands, and his eyes are bright and intense. He doesn't say _that_ word often, it just doesn't come naturally to him—it's one of the things they have in common—, and for him to say it _now_ \- "Yura," Katsudon repeats, gentler this time, "Yura, are you-"

"You're a top skater and have like a fucking thousand college degrees, for fuck's sake, and everyone who's ever met you even _once_ would fucking die for you if you as much as blinked in their direction. Who the fuck are you trying to fool, Katsuki, dating _me_?"

Katsudon sighs, looking really fucking sad, and this is not what Yuri meant to do at all, which is just further proof that he's a piece of shit and shouldn't even be allowed near the random, miraculous concentration of goodness in an otherwise shitty universe that is Katsuki Yuuri.

"You and Victor, I swear," Katsudon mutters. He drags his butt across the couch until he's close enough for his legs to tangle with Yuri's—his back is probably thanking him the fuck out, right now—, squeezes Yuri's hands once more. "Stay tonight, Yurochka. I'll sleep with you in the guest room, alright?"

"Victor will-"

"Victor will _deal_ ," Katsudon says, sharply, decisively.

He will shit a brick. Victor will shit a fucking brick, and then he will probably try to kill himself with it in a show of martyrdom and deep dumbassery, just like he does every single time there's even a minor sign that Katsudon doesn't love him and adore him over all things. And this, Yuri hogging Katsudon for the night without a several days notice, will definitely be interpreted by him as one.

And they're not even going to sleep _all_ together, which Victor might be able to forgive. They've done that only twice and it was a fucking pain both times, uncomfortable and infuriating and barely even worth it, but Victor was pleased enough by not being completely deprived of Katsudon. But Katsudon is saying- _he_ will go to Yuri, to the guest room with him, and abandon Victor for the whole night. And they have done that before as well—five, six times, maybe—, but it's still really fucking new, _everything_ is, and Yuri never feels more naked than when he falls asleep to Katsudon's gentle breathing beside him.

It's terrifying, and more intimate than anything has the fucking right to be, and exactly what Yuri needs today. Steal Katsudon away and let him remind him that not everything is crap.

But Victor will _not_ deal. Except that, judging for the expression in Katsudon's face, he doesn't have a choice.

So Yuri lets Katsudon pull him close, and they watch at least seven episodes of Yuri's terrible soap opera—Nastya and Maksim have made up by then, and end up fucking in an elevator as a set-up for a triplets pregnancy plot point, but Yuri decides to take that as a good omen—, and when hours later, Katsudon stands, stretches sleepily—his shirt rides up; Yuri gets a sudden, violent urge to lick the uncovered stripe of flesh—, and offers Yuri his hand, Yuri takes it.

"You can go and change, Yura," Katsudon says, smiling slightly. "I'll be there in a moment."

They haven't even _had sex_ yet. Yuri doesn't know why that suddenly seems important, but it does.

But he walks to the guest room and changes into the tiger pijamas that he left behind last time—semi-accidentally—, like a good boy, because he's not an idiot and he's aware that Katsudon probably needs that time to text fucking Victor about how things are going to go tonight.

He sits on the bed—which is obscenely small, probably because Victor never actually expected anyone to sleep in it— and waits. Katsudon peeks into the room minutes later, approaches Yuri like he's somehow intruding, and Yuri is expecting him to lay down, drag Yuri into some cuddling, and be stupidly earnest for a good while as he tries to convince Yuri that he's got his facts wrong and someone _is_ worthy of Katsuki Fucking Yuuri, and one of those someones is Yuri himself.

What Katsudon actually does is sit at the foot of the bed, right in front of Yuri, and gently push him back until he's lying flat against the mattress. Then, still hovering over Yuri, he leans forward and kisses him.

Yuri's eyes fall closed on their own.

He grabs Katsudon's face—he's not a fucking bodice-ripping hero, he doesn't go around _cupping_ faces—, pulls him even closer. Katsudon tastes like gingerbread, which is an excuse as good as any to devour his mouth, although that doesn't mean Yuri's going to forget to ask for some actual gingerbread tomorrow morning.

And then, when Yuri's defenses are lowered, that sneaky little shit his boyfriend is shifts so his mouth is by Yuri's ear and says, quietly,

"I'm not going to break up with you because you're a PR nightmare, don't smile back at babies, and were too focused in becoming a top skater to go to college."

Yuri just- really wants to go back to kissing.

"Fine-"

"For one," Katsudon goes on, undeterred, with a smile in his voice, "I already knew all that when I decided I wanted to- to date you. And- even if those were reasons to date someone, well- Victor is all that. I don't need _you_ to be."

Yuri groans and squeezes Katsudon's dumb, beautiful face.

"Victor _is_ a PR nightmare, fashion design barely counts as a college degree, and really fucking frankly, Katsudon, those babies are better off without that old man grinning at them anyway."

But Katsudon will not be stopped, and he looks at Yuri like he _knows_ , so Yuri sighs and nods.

"Yeah, whatever, Katsudon. Sorry for messing up Victor's sleeping arrangements schedule and shit."

"He doesn't have a schedule," Katsudon replies, rolling his eyes, even though Yuri has _seen it_. It says 'Victor' in every single slot, granted, but still. It's not like Yuri gives a shit about it. "And you're always welcome here, Yura. I was actually- well, I'm kind of- uh, expecting you to move in at some point?"

Katsudon is grimacing self-consciously, that way he does when he's regretting ever speaking, and a blush is crawling down his neck, but he still. Doesn't. Take it. Back.

Yuri's pretty sure his mouth is hanging open.

"Like- like I'd ever want to live in Victor's shitty flat," he blurts out.

And for some weird-ass reason, that makes Katsudon relax and smile, unguarded.

He lowers himself on top of Yuri, resting his head on the spot between Yuri's neck and shoulder, and he's so warm and so trusting and so _here_ that it's really fucking hard to remember what Yuri was upset about on the first place.

"Sleep well, Yura," Katsudon says.

"What the fuck, it's nine in the afternoon," Yuri replies.

But Katsudon's breath is slow and steady, and he doesn't answer—not even when Yuri pokes his side—, so Yuri places a hand on Katsudon's back, closes his eyes, and goes the fuck to sleep.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The title, believe it or not, comes from Charles Darwin. The (very relatable) quote is: "But I am very poorly today & very stupid & I hate everybody & everything. One lives only to make blunders."


End file.
